Scent of Fire
by TeeEye82
Summary: A character (I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count) living with the Tohsaka's temporarily and going through some Pretty Great Things, totally Dandy and Full Of Joy like man what I wouldn't give to be in that situation. Part of the Odorlorious collection.
1. Stranger Familiar

**A/N: Transferred from AO3.**

 **I guess the self-promoting frenzy has begun? I'm still not sure entirely what I'm doing with this yet but I'll try to keep it reasonable. This part may or may not get a second chapter depending on both how it's recieved and whether I have enough control to keep from writing it.**

 **Other than that, here we are. The second installment of Me.**

 **Disclaimer: I only own myself and the effort put in to creating this.**

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Home is a term reserved for the group of qualifiers that promote a feeling of safety and comfort. One knows they are home when they have nothing to fear, and can be sure that their surroundings are established as a kind of retreat grounds. The recognition of home can come either with familiarity, relief from otherwise stressful situations, or the presence of stimuli that trigger fondness in memory, regardless of whether the person has ever been in the area where the feeling is noticed. At the same time, though, a place labeled as home can lose the title if it is deemed no longer suitable as territory for promoting a healthy disposition. And she was all too familiar with the sudden alienation of a safe world, her issue stemming from a drastic difference from the others around her.

The girl stood before a large double door, the intricate carvings and looming building behind them doing more than enough to intimidate her. She wasn't a poor individual, but that didn't make the obvious expression of wealth any less imposing. Her fingers wrung nervously by the hem of her shirt before she brought one hand up to knock lightly against the wood. The day was nice, with cool air and warm sunlight spreading out over the land. Somewhere she could hear the sound of birds, and if she focused she could also hear the sounds of distant traffic as tires hissed over the asphalt and engines hummed softly. Everything held a kind of calmly excited buzz, and she found she'd drifted off in thought by the time the door was answered by a small person with large, questioning eyes.

This must have been his daughter, she thought while offering a polite smile. Before she could speak, the young one bit out her greeting first.

"What do you want?" The query was sharp and simple, an elegant kind of no-nonsense evenly woven into the suspicion of an untrusting child. It was bold, even if somewhat rude, and the one standing outside attempted to keep her friendly expression while dipping her head non-threateningly.

"Oh I'm- I'm here to see Mr. Tohsaka? We'd planned to meet so we could discuss-"

"Ah. You're here just in time." The child turned to face the man that had appeared behind her, a soft concern touching the corners of her mouth, but the elder one simply smiled down at her before gently resting his palms on her shoulders to face the guest. "Rin, this is someone who's recently discovered magecraft. I'm going to be helping her explore her abilities for the next few days until she's come to terms with her current potential."

The one outside smiled again at Rin, offering a short wave. The smaller girl seemed to accept this news with a curt satisfaction, nodding once towards the other and then quickly averting her eyes.

"I guess that's okay." Very pretty eyes. Just like her father's, the young lady noted absently.

"Why don't you take her things up to the guest room, Rin?" He gestured to the modest suitcase sitting at the lady's feet, and the child voiced her obedience quietly before stepping out to grab the luggage. The visitor indicated she would be keeping the small pack hanging at her side, and Rin swiftly moved back inside with the case. Once her long pig-tails had whipped out of sight, the man directed his attention to his guest, bowing his head in greeting and motioning within his home.

"Apologies for that. My daughter has taken to deciding who I should and should not trust." Everything about the way he spoke about the child was tinted with a fatherly affection. It wasn't jealousy that the young woman felt at this fact, but something closer to an envy. "I'm sure you understand."

She did, at least enough to nod with good-intention while stepping through the threshold. She had told herself constantly she wouldn't stare, having a pretty strong feeling that if anything inside reflected this family's well-to-do nature that was expressed from the outside then she'd practically be walking into a palace. Her eyes remained on her feet instead, awkwardly avoiding the environment as Tohsaka shut the door behind her and began making his way down the hall.

"Come this way, if you would." His back was to her now, and she quickly trotted to keep up, pointedly keeping her gaze on his shoulders. He was draped flatteringly in a rich red, which was nicely complimented by his dark hair and vibrantly blue eyes. She focused on the way the air moved after he passed through it, breathing slowly while testing the trail of presence he left behind. It wasn't a full breath, though, as she caught herself quickly and admonished herself silently for almost taking without permission.

"I must admit," Tohsaka's voice sounded from ahead, distracting the girl from her mild anxieties, "it came as quite a surprise, learning that someone with no background in magecraft of any kind would possess such an intimate connection with mana." She wasn't sure yet what all of these terms meant, but had a feeling she would understand before her stay was up.

"Is it rare? My situation, I mean, with no blood-related magic users. " Her voice was careful, attempting to choose her words while avoiding the ones she didn't know how to use, yet. Attempting being the operative word, she supposed, as Tohsaka hummed in off-hand amusement.

"Magic is actually an entirely different practice than magecraft. Whereas magic brings about miracles unexplainable by science, thaumatology, or the craft used by mages, is a sort of scientific shortcut. Most techniques a Magus uses in his life are achievable with the right equipment and resources, but through his mana he is able to bypass the necessity for these tools and enact the forces they produce directly. Magic itself is rarer than even your situation."

They were in a sitting room, now, and the man motioned towards one of the couches while taking his place in the one across from it. The girl gingerly sat on the edge of the cushion, bringing herself closer together and hanging her head in thought. Fingers brushed over the cloth of her shirt again. She wasn't sure how to explain her own talents with science, but she figured there was someone out there that could. The sound of liquid rolling as it was poured into a cup met her ears, and she looked up as Tohsaka set a teapot down and offered her a cup. She accepted gratefully, cupping her hands around the delicate china and letting the pleasant aroma of the warm beverage calm her thoughts.

"For now, I'd like you to show me what you know you can do. Take your time, though; we don't need you straining yourself before anything that requires your best condition to work with."She met his cool, collected gaze, admiring how comfortable he seemed, even with a stranger in his home. It was a confidence she could draw from, and that along with the tea helped ease the nervous tightness in her chest.

Her lips parted as she let out a long exhale, steeling herself against any future worries, and she placed the drink on the table in front of her before twisting to dig into her satchel.

"Did that person that messaged me on my email tell you what I told them?" She flicked her gaze towards her host momentarily as she withdrew a sketchbook and a box of assorted pencils and crayons. He nodded, lifting his own teacup to his mouth.

"You have permission to work on me." He was so sure. She could only hope he really was prepared. The last time she'd tried to demonstrate, and to someone whom she believed to be closer than kin, things had ended more than poorly. The girl set the book down on the table and flipped it open to a clean page. As the past drawings flipped by, cerulean focused in on the smear of colours and lines, and the man slipped into pondering while the girl spoke again.

"I draw the pictures because it's easier to show than describe usually, but sometimes I don't get as strong of an image and it's just colours and flavours and I guess every now and then... impressions. Feelings and thoughts and reactions to things." She slid a sharpened pencil from the box but stopped mid-motion, staring at the rest of the utensils for a moment and then quickly grabbing an assortment of crayons.

Tohsaka remained impassive, watching her motions patiently. He took another sip of his tea. The girl looked up after situating herself and rolled her wrists, observing the other where they sat across from her.

"Here we go," she muttered to herself, and closed her eyes while inhaling deeply. Her shoulders relaxed and she let herself get comfortable, focusing on the air. There were many smells in the room. The tea that still steamed where she'd deposited it, the musk of clean cloth and old flowers that sat in fresh water somewhere nearby, the bitter spice of the wood that made up the frames to most of the furniture in the room. Past all of that, she picked out her subject, and quickly began hurriedly sketching over the paper.

Tohsaka watched this exchange in silence. From the door behind and to the left of his seat, a little girl with large pig-tails slid around the corner, watching with equal interest but less sympathy.

"Tell me what you smell," the man chimed after a few moments of the young woman drawing quietly. She paused in the middle of a longer stroke, glancing up in his direction. Her brows furrowed in thought.

"It's. Warm. And strong, but not imposing. Spicy like cinnamon and sharp like splinters. There's compassion in it, though, making it calm. I think... I can tell that there's something heavy in it. But the weight is willing. It feels kind of like..." she began mumbling quickly and ducked her head to draw again, nibbling on her lip as her hand moved. Rin was now crouching by the side of the couch, watching the other female with mostly curiosity.

"Like this," the girl said as she spun the book towards Tohsaka and pushed it closer. He reached forward and lifted said book, bringing it to his lap as his eyes roamed the marks that to anyone else might have seemed like a loose representation of abstract art. Loose for the obvious impressions of… something, abstract for the unfamiliarity of the subject. At least, unfamiliar to her. She nervously ran her tongue along the backs of her teeth, gauging the man's reaction to the image. His eyes remained collected and his lips did not purse in ny deeper thought. However, something in his scent shifted, rolled, and wound gently into what she could only label as tense.

The longer she tasted whatever it was she could read, the easier it was to separate it from the ambience, and the quicker she could pick up on the way it moved. It was different than she was used to. So much clearer, so much richer. Heck, now that she thought about it, she might even be able to draw something more specific from the presence. With all the room she had to work here.

Her attention must have glossed over as she watched, or felt, or smelled the soft and subtle shifting of his… whatever it was, and she realised he was looking at her with an expectancy that follows a query. She ducked her head in shame as she asked for him to repeat himself. Thankfully, his smile was understanding, even if his scent betrayed the mildest hint of annoyance.

"I want you to do it again, but this time try to only work with what brings out the pictures."

The girl nodded and took in another concentrated breath, eyes unfocusing on her surroundings and lids blinking slowly in thought. Though Tohsaka had returned the notebook, this time she didn't need to draw anything.

"Two young girls play in the grass. Their skin hides an amber warmth. One is surrounded by colour and the other is filled with an emptiness. She…the empty girl moves like air. The other is…" Her expression clears and she shifts her sights directly to Rin, who had been watching the exchange with increasing interest. The young girl now made a sound of startled anxiety, and moved as if to run before she was noticed by her father.

"Come on out, Rin. It's rather rude to treat a guest like that." Tohsaka's patient eyes had already found her, and with one arm outstretched he beckoned her closer, inviting her to sit with him. The pig-tailed child clenched her jaw in nervous defiance before shuffling over to the couch and situating herself with all the strength and authority of a queen. The girl across from them moved her own gaze over the two in distraction, and the man returned a careful observance towards her.

"Again."

And she did. She tasted his presence over and over, each time coming out with a different scene. Each time earning a deeper and deeper ponderance from the man, until eventually all she had to give him was ways he was imagining testing her abilities further. He was pouring himself another cup of tea when Rin finally spoke up, having remained seated in silence for the entire exchange up until then.

"Do me next." It was a command. Her words were sure, like her father's. Maybe even more so. Her gaze was hard and her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. The young lady cast a permission seeking look towards the father of the girl, and he consented with a slow motion before lifting the drink to his lips.

"Alright," the lady toned, pulling her sketchbook back into her lap and raising a pencil. Her lungs filled with air again and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the smaller presence. There was a rush of colours, quickly followed by an explosive, crystal flash of a multitude of thoughts and emotions. Fear, anger, hurt, loss, determination, pride, love, suspicion. Each came with a quick snippet of information tied to an event, passing in and out of focus with the abruptness of someone flipping through a book in search of a specific page.

There was a small thud as the notebook hit the floor.

A garbled voice called her name, but she couldn't tell if it was in the scent or in the room. She could feel her neck and shoulders relax until her head lolled sharply forwards, and she was aware her body tipped and collapsed into something firm and warm. Pressure was on her forehead, then her wrist, then her jaw. She watched the way the world danced inside the child. That voice hit her again, and then everything was washed away in a flare of something that smelled of burning, closely followed by darkness.

Her mind drifted lazily through a dream. There were people watching her she didn't know, and mouths moving in tongues she couldn't hear. They moved passed her arms and she let their forms become light.

When the young lady awoke, she was laying in a bed that was obviously not hers, and in a room she didn't recognise. Her head hurt, and there was a tickling warmth along her upper lip. One hand went up to wipe it away, and by the light of the candle by the bed the crimson smear over her fingers was enough to have her upright and tugging the covers over her body off with the hand not covered in blood.

"Easy now. We don't need you hurting yourself." The soft voice of Mr. Tohsaka met her from the darkened doorway, and she brought her hand back up to her face to keep the blood from getting all over everything. He offered her a towel, which she took with a grateful dip of her torso, and motioned for her to follow as he turned from the room and made his way down the hall. Her feet, missing her shoes but still concealed by socks, slid silently behind the man's until he stopped outside a lit room and gestured inside. It was a bathroom. She moved to the sink and began cleaning the mess she'd made of herself.

"Rin would like to apologise for hurting you." The smooth voice broke the silence after a while, and the girl tipped her head back against the flow of the dark liquid as she shifted a curious look towards her host.

"Hurting me?"

The almost concerned pull of the man's eyebrows closer to his nose told her what she needed to know, and she shook her head softly, checking how the bleeding was with the towel once more and coming away with drastically less red this time.

"It's alright," she insisted. "It wasn't her fault I don't think. She just…" The girl chuckled nervously, sights returning to Tohsaka where he stood at ease in the doorway again. The towel was gripped carefully in her hands, as she kept the red stains away from anything important. "She just had a lot for me to see."

"Yes." He confirmed this with a single nod. "As a child I suppose it's not surprising that her projection of mind to mana isn't yet that well disciplined. Perhaps that's something we can work on you becoming less susceptible to overload with. Tell me, though," and his voice was now something more serious than she was prepared for. Her chest tightened and the lump returned to her throat.

"What did you smell?"


	2. Familiar Stranger

**A/N: Transferred from AO3.**

 **Every time I sit down to write I have a different idea in mind by the time I decide to stop, so this is probably more of a trip for myself than anyone who chooses to read. Nonetheless, here's the rest of Scent of Fire? I realise it doesn't really fully focus on anyone with associated with fire here but it's in the Tohsaka home still so phblhtlp.**

 **Might separate these two chapters out anyway unless I make one special just for our favourite priest? We'll see. Thoughts are very welcome please do not be afraid to share even if it's an unsavory kind.**

 **Disclaimer: My ownership extends only towards my person and my effort.**

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The air was warm down there. Warm and musty, the distinctive trace of old paper and generations of ancient mana floating through the small space with a quietness that begged one to whisper and walk softly, so as to not disturb the sleeping runes that lay as sentinels along the spines of each tome and those that were woven neatly throughout the lines that the workshop was built on. The girl sat peaceably at the island table in the center of the room, fingers leafing through some basic inscriptions on loose pamphlets as the young child that shared the space with her focused her attention on a group of small, clear, colourful stones. Rin muttered words under her breath in a language the lady was only beginning to recognise a few terms of, and a gentle glow would interrupt the flickering gold of the candlelight that cast such dark shadows across the walls and floor. A sound of frustration was made known from the younger of the two, and the almost-woman looked up with a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, Rin. How about we have lunch?"

The offer was meant as nothing more than a friendly suggestion, but the pig-tailed child twisted her expression is offense, as if the mere thought of needing to take a break were an insult. Before she could argue, though, she stiffened a bit as her stomach made a low groaning sound, and she averted a somewhat self-conscious glower.

"Sure. Whatever." The elder of the two's eyes brightened in delight, and she straightened the papers to something more presentable, likely in order to come back to later, and rose to move towards the stairs.

"Clean up your mess and meet me in the kitchen. I'll see about making us something nice."

As she moved away, there was a mumbled word of defiance, something along the lines of, "You don't have to tell me what to do," and her lips drew together in thin discomfort. She'd been staying with the Tohsaka's long enough, she figured Tokiomi's daughter would have warmed up to her by now. And if not that, then at least treat her with less hostility than when they first met.

While she pulled the desired ingredients from the shelves, the young woman recalled the heat in those large, innocent eyes. Eyes that had seen more than those lips would dare speak. Something that would shape the way she approached the world forever more. When the door opened that first time, the visitor had been cast into what could only be described as the terror of vulnerable prey. She supposed that fear of the child lingered even now, or perhaps had never lessened. Her fingers had come to stop at the edge of a cutting board, gaze vacantly seeing through the air but not ending at the wood beneath her hand.

"You've been spacing off quite a bit lately."

She jumped, spinning to face the kind woman that stood patiently by her side. Her hands had come up in defense, but this didn't deter the proximity of the long-haired company, and Aoi reached over to slide the cutting board towards herself instead.

"I-I'm sorry, Mistress Tohsaka. I was just-" The woman waved her off with a small giggle, motioning towards the sitting room where it seemed a freshly brewed pot of tea was waiting.

"There's no need to be so jumpy. You've been here long enough, how many times will I have to ask you to call me Aoi?" The girl lowered her hands to her sides and smiled politely, dipping her head in respect before glancing at the taken cutting board.

"I was just about to make Rin and I something to eat." Aoi looked down at the board, too, smiling all the while.

"I'll take care of it. You two have been studying hard. Go sit, I'm sure you haven't been off your feet proper in days. Tokiomi's been working you hard."

The girl chuckled nervously, bringing her fingers to twist slightly by the edge of her shirt, but she nodded in confirmation. A silent exchange of knowing looks was traded between the two before the younger one rose a palm in well-bidding and left the kitchen to sit on the couch.

Rin appeared in the doorway as the young lady sipped a cup of tea, and she put the drink down to wave with a grin and hopefully beckon the girl to sit with her. Instead, the girl lifted her chin and turned away, disappearing back the way she came. The lady sighed.

What a troublesome child. But… at least she was strong-willed.

The motherly presence she'd grown fond of during her stay so far streamed by, and she looked up to see the long-haired and gentle-clad figure of Rin's mother sit beside her with a platter of little sandwiches.

"May I join you?" Her voice was so soft, and so sweet. She couldn't imagine ever causing it to tinge with pain or sorrow, and hoped it would always be full of only the best memories.

"Your company is always welcome," she assured the woman, and the two began nibbling on the food. "But… where's Rin?"

Aoi offered a tinkling, musical sound of entertainment, sliding a devious glance towards the guest. The target of this look faltered momentarily.

"She's eating her food in the kitchen. I told her you'd wonder for her, but she seems to think she doesn't deserve your curiosity. I let her stay in there so we could talk alone." This news struck something strange in the girl, and she swallowed the last of her sandwich silently. Aoi watched her with the eyes of someone sharing the company of a childhood friend for the first time in years, and shifted slightly to rest a cool hand on their other's knee.

"I know this might seem a little odd of a question, coming from someone without magical circuits, but… do you think you could read me?" Aoi's voice had become something softer, borderline meek, and the girl carefully took the delicate hand on her person in one of her own and gave it a light squeeze, lips curved in a pleasant smile. The mother searched this expression for something, and she might have found it if the mild anxiety behind those dark orbs shrunk away, but without that the worry was only more striking.

The girl nodded solemnly, unsure of what was eating the woman within, and closed her eyes to focus on the faint scent of her company. It wasn't exactly harder to find than someone like Rin, with a presence that almost overpowered the rest of the room, but it was harder to read quickly, requiring more interpretation of vague impressions and yielding less in the way of solid personal significance. The young lady breathed deep, and let the soft cardamom and celery of Aoi fill her mind.

It was cool. Almost misty. A pleasant compliment to Tokiomi, she mused fondly. The movement of shadows could have been people, tall and short intermingled. Draped in black and dipped forward in a peculiar posture the girl was only familiar with when paying respects to someone. The ground and sky felt the same, a gloomy kind of watery green, and the light was diffused evenly to remove shaded textures. There was… something darker than the other shadows. Something solid. Something that did not smell of Aoi. Something that did not smell kind or clean or motherly.

Something that smelled of death. Hands reached out.

Something that smelled of blood. Hands reached out.

Something that smelled of vile, sickly intentions. Hands held fast.

The girl's stomach churned at this intrusion, and she opened her eyes to break the images, a thin sheen of perspiration causing the hair around her temples to cling to her skin. Aoi had taken both of her hands, and her face held a worry that was no longer directed towards the reading, but instead towards the girl.

"Are you alright? Please, tell me I didn't hurt you. You don't even have to tell me what you saw, I'm so sorry for asking you to-" the girl interrupted her with a shaky sound of protest, bringing those gentle, concerned fingers closer to her face to ward away that disgusting, agonising scent. Whatever it was, it wasn't Aoi's, and this confused her. She'd need to speak with Tokiomi about this; a new development in what she could sense, perhaps?

The source unnerved her, and she met those protectively affectionate eyes with a mildly terrorised look, swallowing thickly, almost grossed out by the lingering bits of sandwich she could feel on her teeth.

"Don't worry, Mistress Tohsaka. I'm just not used to working with a lack of mana." A lie, but necesary. "It's alright." Something was wrong, though. Because that awful smell was still there. She'd managed to convince the woman otherwise, thankfully, as she smiled in relief and pressed a kiss to the younger lady's forehead before rising and moving to take the rest of the sandwiches back to the kitchen.

"I'm so glad. See about getting some rest. You must be worn out from that."

The girl nodded complacently, situating her still shaking hands in her lap in such a way as to hide the tremors, but it wasn't enough to escape the observant watch of a mother. Aoi didn't comment, though, and her frame disappeared back into the other room. The girl stayed where she sat until she was confident in her legs' ability to support her weight. The smell was still there. She was making her way down the hall towards the stairs that would take her to her room when the front door opened and the familiar spice of Tokiomi's presence met her senses, however muffled by the stench of rot.

"Ah, excellent timing as always," the man hummed while he and someone the girl didn't recognise entered the home, shutting the doors behind them and shrugging off coats that were more for show and less for functionality. She wanted to smile welcoming, and bow in greeting. She wanted to ask how his trip had been, and whether there was any news from the Church. She'd wanted to talk to him about the interesting development she'd just discovered through trying to smell Aoi. She wanted to do all this and more. But she was frozen, partly in fear and partly in shock, eyes glued in horror to the man that stood behind her host. Tokiomi's lips moved, and she had a feeling he was introducing the two of them.

Something that smelled… and hands-

"… studying as my pupil… important for work…"

She couldn't hear him, couldn't even see him anymore, all of her attention on the black-clad man that met her gaze with a vacancy and evenness that made every hair on her body stand on end and her mind scream to get away, to run, to hide before he found her.

"...unusual ability… no relative mages... this is…"

She silently begged Tohsaka to not. Don't tell him who I am. Don't give him that kind of power. Please. Her mind was still screaming. Her eyes would not let tears flow. She could hear her own pulse as it crashed in her ears and warped her vision, chest tightening and breath becoming almost non-existent. She felt like he was seeing right through her, within every grain she harboured close to her mind.

"Oh, Tokiomi! Welcome home, dear. And who is this?" Black shifted to the precious light of Aoi, releasing the girl from the nauseating violation. In that moment, she turned and fled, feet carrying her automatically to the bathroom where she found the toilet and wretched violently, quickly emptying the meager contents of her stomach. Her frame shook and the tears finally came, and she was sure if the human body would allow it her fingers would scour deep grooves right through the porcelain of the bowl.

Home is a term reserved for the group of qualifiers that promote a feeling of safety and comfort. One knows they are home when they have nothing to fear, and can be sure that their surroundings are established as a kind of retreat grounds. The recognition of home can come either with familiarity, relief from otherwise stressful situations, or the presence of stimuli that trigger fondness in memory, regardless of whether the person has ever been in the area where the feeling is noticed. At the same time, though, a place labeled as home can lose the title if it is deemed no longer suitable as territory for promoting a healthy disposition. She'd begun to think of this place as her new home, gratefully accepting the hospitality extended to her by the entire Tohsaka family, dreading the day she'd need to leave and return to that alien world she didn't belong to anymore.

Down below, she could hear the confident voice of the man that had taken her in. It was only a name she heard…

"Kotomine Kirei."

...but it was enough to destroy the utopia she'd created, and she closed her eyes against the smell and sobbed.


End file.
